


We'll Really Make Them SCREAM!

by DearestFriend



Category: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, BAMF Sally, Domestic, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Halloween, Halloween Town (Nightmare Before Christmas), Memories, No Sex, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partnership, Platonic Romance, Ratings: PG, Romance, Sally Deserves Nice Things, Shopping, Slow Dancing, Tarot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearestFriend/pseuds/DearestFriend
Summary: Jack learns something unexpected about Sally, and it sparks his best idea yet. This Halloween, Sally and Jack are really going to give it all their might; they’ll really make them SCREAM!Set shortly after the end of The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), this work explores Jack and Sally’s relationship post-canon and sides of both characters that were only touched upon briefly in the movie. Sally’s character especially will be more fleshed out. We know Jack is the master of fright, but what about Sally? If you’ve ever wondered how Sally would scare you right out of your pants then you're in the right place!This fic will include plenty of romantic moments, but nothing explicitly sexual. As a kid, I naively interpreted Jack and Sally’s kiss on Spiral Hill as a hug; I mean, they’re “dearest friends,” right? Ever since, it’s been my headcanon that Jack and Sally as undead citizens of Halloween Town, more specifically as a gentlemanly assortment of bones and a pretty bag of leaves, do not experience conventional human romance and sexual attraction. But you can read between the lines.In keeping with the tone of the original movie there will also be no swearing or coarse language.HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Relationships: Sally/Jack Skellington
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	1. First Scream

**Author's Note:**

> I’m strictly abiding by the movie’s canon, including the original and epilogue poems, but not by the quasi-cannon established in the franchise’s video games and comics. I rewatched the film, taking extensive notes as I did so; I also have the power of The Nightmare Before Christmas Wiki and the entire film script on my side. Hopefully, reading this fic will brighten up someone's quarantine Halloween like writing it has brightened up mine!
> 
> Pro Tip: I read a study that asserts smiling is a two-way street; you smile when you’re happy, and you’re happy when you smile. If you need that extra dopamine rush to keep you going, try maintaining a slight smile as much as possible. Draw smiley faces on your hand or on sticky notes and put them in highly visible places; you can even set wallpapers or alarms on your phone. It’s completely free and can also help you appear more friendly and sociable to others.

“ **_WHAT?!_ **”

Jack Skellington—Skeleton Jack, master of fright, demon of the light, king of the pumpkin patch and of Halloween itself—tumbles backwards in his chair. In his monochrome, pin-striped suit and black dress shoes he resembles a spider dead on its back; his skeletal limbs spread akimbo.

“ _Jack!_ ” exclaims his dearest friend from across their shared dining table, her usually wispy voice pitched sharp with surprise. 

Sally—humanoid patchwork ragdoll, creature of science, seamstress of stitches, brewer of both potions and poisons and sometimes seer of misfortune—presses a red-nailed, blue hand to a cross-stitched, blue cheek. She gnaws on her bottom lip, dark red like viscous blood, and flicks her black-pupilled, all-white eyes down worriedly at Jack. 

“Are you _alright_?”

In a flash, Jack flips his long legs over his head while throwing up the back of his fallen chair with his hands so that they both stand upright, him now behind it. Calmly, the skeleton man pulls the chair back from the table, walks around it and sits down. He scoots back to his former position and smoothly adjusts his bat bow tie as if nothing happened.

“Why, I’m perfectly horrid, Sally!” Jack assures her with his usual enthusiasm and full-bodied theatrics; with one arm he gestures broadly towards the ceiling, with the other toward himself, four bony fingers splayed against his chest. “I just misheard you and thought something that caused me quite the fright. Seems even I’m not immune to my ghost-like charms!” He chuckles genially, but with an edge of hysteria.

Sally notices and crosses her arms over her raggedy, mishmash dress of various faded colours and patterns as if hugging herself, hands circling upper arms. Under the table, her blue legs, bare below the knee save for black-striped, white leg warmers and a plethora of sutured seams, cross and uncross. She taps a petite, black heel silently against their oriental carpet. “What did you think I said, Jack?” she inquires.

“Well…” Jack takes a quick sip from his goblet and places it back down next to his half-eaten plate of spookghetti and eyeballs. “I thought you said you’d never scared before!” A quick laugh. “Ah, but that would be absolutely sane, I know, I know.” A gasp. “Oh, but I’ve interrupted you!” Jack steeples his bony phalanges together, elbows against the table on either side of his plate, and leans toward his dinner mate with a skeleton grin. “What were you saying before, Sally?”

Sally sees a long lock of her waist-length auburn hair slipped over her shoulder and nudges it safely behind her, away from her food. Bashfully, she looks left, then right, then back down at her dinner. She picks her fork up and gives one of the eyeballs on her plate a light jab. “Oh, well, I was just saying…” She looks up at Jack, his dark, cavernous sockets still fixed on her expectantly. Sally puts the fork back down and sits up straight. She bats her long, sutured eyelashes and smiles impishly. “I was just saying that I’ve never scared anyone before.”

Jack's orbital cavities expand impossibly wide and his jaw drops. 

She sniggers. “Except for you now, my dearest Jack.”

Sally reaches forward and grabs his fallen jawbone from his plate. She wipes it clean with her napkin and hands it back to him. Jack takes it wordlessly, as he is incapable of words without it. 

He quickly reattaches his jaw. “But—I—You— _How_ —?”

“I was stuck in the Doctor’s tower last Halloween,” Sally explains, casually. “I’ve never left Halloween Town before, Jack. I was only able to witness some of the local celebrations by poisoning the Doctor and sneaking out.”

“Still,” Jack insists, brow ridge scrunched in confusion. He clutches the edge of the table and leans back in his chair. “You must’ve scared someone in _Halloween Town_ at least.”

“ _Hmmmmm_ …” Sally thinks. “Not that I can recall,” she maintains with a sheepish shrug. “Besides the incident with Oogie-Boogie, I rarely left the laboratory or spoke with anyone but the Doctor. And he’s never really seemed to care about anything beyond his experiments.”

Jack scratches his skull and nods thoughtfully. “Every year the Doctor contributes his inventions, but he never participates in the Halloween scaring himself.”

Sally nods back in agreement. She clenches her hands in her lap and tilts her head inquisitively. “I suppose I did _surprise_ the Doctor whenever I would poison him…” A slight shake of her head. “But he only ever seemed angry afterwards, never scared.”

Jack smirks fiendishly. “You poisoned him three times that last month, didn’t you?”

“Four times!” she corrects, beaming.

Jack snickers briefly, then quiets. “ _Hmmmmm…_ ” He begins cyclically tapping his chin with a bony finger. 

Sally takes a couple sips from her goblet and has a few more bites of her dinner, giving Jack time to sort through his thoughts.

A maniacal grin stretches almost painfully long across his face and he cackles frenziedly.

“Heh…Heh-heh-heh…HEH-HEH-HEH-HEH… **EEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEEEE-HEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEE!”**

“ _Jack?!_ ” Sally frowns in bewilderment, fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “What is it?”

“Oh, _Sally_ ! Don’t you _see_?!” Jack proclaims rhetorically, standing up from his seat, outstretching his arms grandly. “After Christmas, when I fell out of the sky, I felt just like my old, bony self again. As you know, I decided to give next Halloween all my might, and one horribly great idea after another has come to me since!” he titters manically, clutching his widespread hands into fists.

Sally looks up at him towering above her. “Yeeeeeeeee _essssssssss_ …” She hesitantly concedes.

“Well, I’ve just had my best idea yet!” Jack declares triumphantly. He jumps and somersaults over the table, over Sally. Like a cat, he lands on his feet, turns and prowls over her where she sits. He wraps his long arms like claws over the back of her chair, around her leafy, sutured chest, and rests his chin on her right shoulder. “You!”

Sally reaches up with both hands and lightly clasps the arms circling her chest. “… _Me?_ ”

Jack says it again, whispering the word in her ear like a secret. “… _You_.”

Sally sighs and closes her eyes, leaning her head into his. “What do you mean, Jack?”

“Well,” he starts, in a quiet murmur, “my talents are renowned far and wide. Scaring is what I do, and at what I do I am the **_best_ **.”

Sally startles in his arms as he moans the last word with menace, clutching her tighter. It doesn’t hurt Sally, nothing does, but she feels a firm, constricting pressure around her chest as if she were trapped in a vice; she’s unable to budge a centimeter, let alone an inch.

“And Sally, _youuu_ ,” Jack says fondly, briefly relaxing one arm to poke her cheek, “are the cleverest soul I know!” he compliments. 

Sally hums and gives his arms an affectionate squeeze.

Jack continues: “With the slightest little effort I can make grown men give out a shriek and sweep the very bravest off their feet. Scaring became routine, so I grew weary and tired of the same old thing. But this year will be different!” He releases Sally from his clutches and spins her chair around as if it were on wheels. Facing her, Jack props his hands on either armrest and leans in closely, nose to nasal bone. “Because: I. Have. _You_!”

Sally feels his breath against her lips. She cups his face tenderly with a blue, stitched appendage. “ _Ohhhhh_ , _Jack_.”

“I’ll teach you everything I know, Sal.” Jack dwarves the entirety of Sally’s cold, dead hand with just his bony fingers, holding it firmly where it rests against his smooth, ivory cheek bone. “Together, we’ll make walls fall and mountains crack. We’ll make wounds ooze and flesh crawl.” He lets go, grabs Sally by the waist and tugs her to her feet. He lifts her hands up and twirls himself under them and around to her side. Jack slithers an arm across Sally’s shoulders, the other arm gesticulating wildly before them. “Together, we’ll really make them **SCREAM** !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> If you enjoyed please leave a kudos.


	2. Second Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter way sooner than expected, but I have a lot of work coming up so the next one will probably take much longer; I aim to get it up by Halloween though.
> 
> Fun Fact: The end credits of The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) includes a massage therapist. Good work, Aisha Candrian! We stan.

**“GAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!”**

Skeletal fingers tug down and apart the sides of an impossibly cavernous mouth crowded with dozens of shark-like teeth framing a long, black tongue. 

Sally shrieks and lurches backward in her seat with fright, dropping her quill and accidentally elbowing an ink pot off her writing desk. Glass shatters and murky, viscous fluid splatters the spiralling black-and-white tiled floor of the precariously tall tower. Once, the tower was a laboratory in which Jack studied Christmas; now, it serves as a classroom in which Sally studies scaring.

Zero wakes with a jolt, either from the racket or from the sensation of ink passing through his incorporeal form, spotting his grey bed. He flies around the room, white blanket body and ribbon ears ruffling in an invisible wind. His jack-o’-lantern nose atop his long, grinning snout glows a bright orange.

“ARF! ARF! ARF!”

“ **EEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEEEE-HEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEE!”**

Jack cackles gleefully, hands clutched over the hollow cavity beneath his suit where a stomach would be, as his entire body shakes with the force of it. He stands in front of a large blackboard riddled with scientific terms such as “perceived danger or threat,” “physiological and behavioural changes,” “fight, flight or freeze,” “fawn response,” “rational and irrational” and “phobia.” Various quick sketches of pumpkins, bats and monsters litter the board, and at its center reads the equation: “victim ÷ (rationality × imagination) + stimulus = FEAR”

Zero sniffs around the room and sees there’s no threat. He returns to his bed, flying circles around it before settling in and quickly falling back to sleep again.

Jack’s chortles die down and he wipes a bony finger tip along the lower ridge of an orbital socket, flicking it out as if wiping away a tear. “Sorry, Sally. You appeared to be losing focus, so I thought it was time for a demonstration.” He chuckles. “I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so effective!”

Sally nods, her horrified expression morphing into an impressed grin. She clutches her chest with her hands, one stitched, blue limb overlaying the other where for some a heart could be felt beating. “You _really_ scared me, Jack.”

“That’s splendid!” Jack exclaims brightly. He skulks to Sally’s desk and crouches to rest his chin on the edge of the writing surface. With clawed hands, he clutches its legs and squats so low that his own long legs bend at sharp angles above his head. He smiles eagerly up at Sally. “How did it make you feel? Tell me everything!”

Sally clasps her hands in her lap and stares down at his imploring face. “I was trying to focus… But I was getting restless.” She smiles sheepishly at him. _“I couldn’t_ _help it_.”

Jack grins wider. “And _then_?”

“ _Then_ …” Sally scrunches her lips thoughtfully. “I heard it. I heard _you_. But before my brain knew what it was hearing, my neck was turning to look. And I didn’t see _you_ then, Jack,” she shakes her head. “I saw an endless mouth of sharp teeth, _coming_ for me.” Sally’s breathing quickens with the memory. “I felt this sudden lurch… _Here_.” She places one hand over her clothed abdomen. “And a violent fluttering… _Here_.” The other over her heavily sutured chest. “And my body just… _Reacted._ ” She looks down at the mess of glass and ink sullying the floor, her eyes tracing an inky trail of footprints to where Jack crouches before her.

Jack beams and springs back up, fists pounding in the air. “Yes! Exactly, Sally! That’s it! That’s the _feeling_!” He spins around and rushes back to the black board, glass shards cracking loudly beneath his shoes. He flips the board, revealing its other side, clean and unmarked. He grabs a short piece of chalk between the tips of his lanky fingers and to the top left of the board writes: ‘FEARS.’ He underlines the word. “What do you _fear_ , Sally? What makes you feel that… **_feeling_**?” he growls, clawing his free hand at Sally with menace.

“Hmmmmm…” Sally ponders the question. “When you scared me, Jack, the loud noise and sudden motion made me feel as if I was in danger. I don’t feel pain like you and the humans do, but I feel fear…” She gently tugs at a loose stitch along her wrist; the thread slides clean through and her whole hand pops off. “Fear for my body…” It lands on her desk and jumps to its fingertips, scuttling about the surface like a spider. “Fear for my life…” With her still attached hand, Sally pulls a needle from behind her right ear and a spool of blue thread from her dress pocket. “And sometimes, I… I fear for _you_ , Jack.” With a practiced hand, she grabs the limb and quickly sews it back on. Returned to its proper place, it gives Sally a thumbs-up.

Jack listens attentively, nodding enthusiastically and writing down everything Sally says. He condenses her words into a short list of fears: ‘pain,’ ‘physical body,’ ‘life,’ ‘others’ well-being.’ The last one gives him pause. “Sally, I can’t believe I never realized… That you…” He looks away from the board and down at his dearest friend putting away her needle and thread. He scratches his chin. “I—I’ve feared for you, too,” he admits, bashfully.

Sally smiles fondly up at her dearest friend. She clasps her hands together on her desk. “What next, Mr. Skellington?”

“Right. Yes, of course.” Jack recollects himself. “ _Fear_.” He taps a bony finger against the blackboard. “Sally, the feelings you’ve explained are all common, rational fears. Other, more specific and less rational fears exist, but these ones are practically universal; we can take advantage of them to give others a good scare!” Jack explains gleefully. “We don’t actually hurt anyone of course—that would be _mean_ —we just make them think we will!”

Sally nods attentively. “And how do we make them think _that_ , Jack?”

“Ah, fantastic question!” Jack remarks. “You don’t need to have a worry over humans; humans are easy!” he assures her. “They find us citizens of Halloween Town strange and peculiar. They call us _monsters_ , and fear us simply because we’re _different_ from them. With a wave of a hand and a well-placed moan, you can scare almost any human by just being _you_.” Jack draws two vertical lines on the blackboard, creating three columns; in the first column is their list of fears, the other two he labels ‘Strengths’ and ‘Weaknesses.’ “Now of course, we all have our own unique abilities; I, being a skeleton, can take off my head.” He demonstrates by doing just so. “To be or not to be: that is the question,” Jack proclaims, perched upon his outstretched skeletal palm. 

“ _Ooooo_ ,” Sally exclaims, clapping her hands politely at his performance. 

Jack laughs and gives a mock bow, holding his skull to his chest like a hat. He straightens and lifts his arm, letting gravity roll his skull down along it, over his shoulder and back atop his long, skeletal neck. He adjusts his head with his hands, making sure it's screwed on tightly. “I’m also very agile and quick, can fit into extremely narrow spaces and can walk through fire without burning,” he adds.

“No wonder you’re the Pumpkin King, Jack,” Sally compliments, shuffling her feet under her desk. “Is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

“Why, yes! Of course!” he insists, modestly. “I can’t hide in water since my bones are so buoyant, and I have to be mindful of where all my pieces are or I’ll lose them.”

“You’ve lost yourself before?” Sally shudders at the thought.

Jack nods and rests his hands on his hip bones. “I still haven’t found a rib I lost playing fetch with _Zero_ last week.” He frowns, narrowing his sockets suspiciously at the spirited canine who snores on unaware. Jack relaxes his arms and grins at Sally again. “I can’t fly or use magic either. And I still have a physical body and experience pain; I may be tough, but I’m not _completely_ impervious.” He crosses his arms and leans back casually. “Enough about me though; what are _your_ strengths, Sally?” He tilts his head curiously.

“Well, Jack…” Sally considers, examining the needlework along her wrists and forearms. “Like you, I can take myself apart and put myself back together again. My limbs even seem to have minds of their own sometimes.”

“Fascinating!” Jack observes. He adds ‘detachable limbs’ to the ‘Strengths’ column. “Can you control your limbs when they’re out of sight or at great distance?”

“In a way,” Sally half-confirms. “I can’t feel them unless they’re attached, so I can’t just move them; it’s more like they do what _they want to do_ , and usually it’s the same as what I would have them do.”

Jack rubs his hands together deviously. “Oh, _Sally_! I’m already coming up with such _terrible_ _ideas_!” he cackles. “But please, do continue: _what else_?!”

“Hmmmmm…” Sally continues on. “I can’t fit into narrow spaces, but my body is quite light since I’m full of leaves, and I feel no pain; I can take heavy impacts and survive long falls… Though I may have to stitch myself back together again afterwards.”

Jack adds ‘light’ and ‘no pain’ to the list. “Intriguing!”

“And sometimes…” Sally bites her lip. “Sometimes, I _see_ _things_.”

“ _See things_?” Jack parrots, orbital sockets wide with wonder. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember the terrible vision I had about your Christmas, Jack?” Sally reminds him. “I told you there would be smoke and fire; that it would be a _disaster_.”

Jack frowns at the memory. “I just thought you didn’t agree with my plan.”

Sally nods sagely. “I was plucking the petals off of a flower when it suddenly transformed into something I had never seen before: a Christmas tree. It was beautiful, Jack…” She sighs and tucks a lock of hair behind an ear. “But then it burst into flames…”

“I should’ve listened to you.” Jack reflects, shoulders hunched, head hung low. “I’m sorry, Sally.”

“ _Oh, Jack_. I already forgave you that night on Spiral Hill.” Sally reassures him. “Things turned out alright in the end; Halloween Town was even able to experience Christmas. Just please,” she adds firmly, “listen to me and consider what I have to say in the future.”

“Of course, Sally!” Jack agrees. “We’re partners now; I’ll always listen to what you have to tell me, and we’ll make important decisions _together_!”

Sally beams. “Thank you, Jack.”

“No, Sally,” he insists, “thank _you_.”

Sally bats her eyes appreciatively.

“Have you had any other visions?” Jack questions her, returning to the lesson.

“Not in such a way,” Sally explains, “but sometimes I have dreams, or simply _feelings_ , and then I know something terrible will happen.”

“Are your premonitions always misfortunate?” he inquires with a tilt of his head.

“So far: _yes_ ,” Sally reaffirms. “But often they’re little things, like my sewing needle breaking, or accidentally mixing deadly nightshade in my cooking. And sometimes by knowing, I’m able to stop the thing… Or at least avoid it.”

“Premonitions are outside my expertise, but I’m sure your visions could be very useful,” Jack acknowledges, writing ‘visions’ under ‘no pain’ on the blackboard. “ _Hmmmmm_ …” He scratches his chin in thought. He gasps as an idea strikes him. “The Witch Sisters: Helgamine and Zeldaborn! If anyone in town should know more, it’s _them_!” he suggests excitedly, fists clenching and arms rising above his head. 

Sally grins at his enthusiasm. “I’ve been meaning to stop by their shop soon,” she agrees, resting her chin in her hands and leaning forwards in her seat. “I’m running low on ingredients.”

“We can go tomorrow morning,” Jack proposes. “And afterwards we can conduct some experiments of our own!”

Sally gulps, sitting back up straight. “ _Experiments_?”

“Yes!” he gleefully cackles. “Experiments!”

Sally fiddles with her hands under her desk. “What kind of experiments, Jack?”

“I’m not quite sure,” he admits. “But I bet the witches can give us some suggestions!” Jack eagerly insists.

Sally considers it. “Okay,” she accepts, clenching her hands into fists in her lap. “I trust you, Jack.”

“Marvelous!” he acknowledges. Jack turns back to their list of strengths. “Okay, we have ‘detachable limbs,’ ‘light,’ ‘no pain,’ and ‘visions.’” He writes a few more. “I’m adding ‘sewing,’ ‘potions’ and ‘poisons’ as well,” he explains. “Nobody knows their way around a sewing machine or a kitchen like you do, Sal!”

Sally relaxes her posture and gives Jack a slight smile. “Yes.”

“Okay; good work!” Jack concludes. “Now, what are your weaknesses?” he asks, tapping his chalk against the final column on the blackboard.

“My weaknesses…” Sally repeats. She stares at her hands. “It takes me time to reattach my limbs; I can’t just stick them back together, I have to sew them tight.” She crosses and uncrosses her legs. “I also have poor balance and move slower because I’m so tall, yet so light.” She picks up her forgotten quill and rolls it between her blue fingers. “And my leaves…” She scrunches her lips. “My leaves make me extremely flammable.”

Jack jots all this down. “It’s important to know your weaknesses so you can work around them, or even _with_ them; sometimes our weaknesses can be unexpected strengths!” he encourages her. “They also give us boxes to work within; limitations can spark our greatest ideas!”

Sally nods her understanding, but gnaws her lower lip between her teeth with worry.

Jack puts down his chalk, walks over to Sally and sits on the edge of her desk. He reaches out a skeleton hand to gently clasp her shoulder. “Personally, I find the way you walk quite charming,” he confesses with an impish grin. “And with your height and stagger I’m sure it will put quite a fright into the humans!” he titters deviously.

Sally smiles, but looks up at him doubtfully. 

Jack stands up again, grabbing Sally’s hands and pulling her to her feet. She wobbles slightly, but rights herself.

“What are you doing, Jack?” she demands, still holding his hands.

Jack gently leads her around the desk and to the middle of the tower's spiral floor, glass crunching beneath their feet, ink marking their every step. “Dance with me, Sal!”

She hesitates. “I don’t know about this, Jack…”

“Dance with me!” he insists anyway. He holds her hands and waits patiently for her assent.

Sally gazes down at the sullied tiling. “What about the mess?”

“We’ll clean it tomorrow!” Jack counters. “Dance with me!”

“We don’t have any music though, Jack,” Sally argues, swivelling her neck left and right, searching the tower for a record player.

“We can make our own music!” he proposes, grin unflinching. “Dance with me!”

Slowly, Sally reaches up her cold, dead hands and clasps them around the back of Jack’s long, bony neck. Jack begins to hum a familiar, haunting melody from a cold Christmas night atop a hill. Sally smiles at the memory and croons her own gentle song. Jack rests his skeletal fingers on her waist and takes a step forward with his left foot, then with his right, the sound of crackling glass accompanying their eerie duet. He slides his left foot to meet the other, painting a stroke of ink.

Sally steps back with her right foot, then her left. She slides her right foot to meet the other.

Jack steps back with his right foot, then his left. He slides his right foot to meet the other.

Sally steps forward with her left foot, then her right. She slides her left foot to meet the other.

And they’re waltzing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> If you enjoyed please leave a kudos.


	3. Third Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was largely inspired by the newly released Nightmare Before Christmas tarot deck. I didn’t buy it during pre-order because I wanted to see the reviews first to make sure it wasn’t a pipdeck… And now they’re out of stock. 
> 
> It do be like that sometimes.
> 
> I saw that rainbowthefox left this story a kudos and I would just like to say thank you if you’re reading this. I love your works and was super psyched when I saw you read and enjoyed mine. To everyone else, if you haven’t read ‘Dearest Friends’ and its sequel ‘Our Nightmare,’ go check it out. If you like this story then I guarantee you’ll love rainbowthefox’s work.
> 
> Thank you to MontaukMonster, Keriann, Ironicallyiron and to all you guests for your kudos as well. I see you. Your support is much appreciated.
> 
> Lastly, with this chapter we’ve officially passed the Bechdel Test. Whoop!

**“EEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEEE!”**

**“HEH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HEHHHHH!”**

Two witches cackle as they toil over a cauldron; a blue fire burns and an oily substance bubbles. The little witch stands on the edge of the pot and stirs as the big one throws in one ingredient after another: a long strip of pink flesh; a slimy, green toe; black, downy fur; a round tongue; a forked one; a sharp fang leaking venom; a twitching reptilian leg; a flapping bird’s wing. They fiercely delight in their wicked work, cackling louder with each plop of something new into the hellish broth.

“Horrible morning, ladies!” Jack enthusiastically announces, whipping open the door to the Witches’ Shop. The shop is all crumbling brick walls, rotting wooden furniture, shelves so overstocked they sag in the middle with even more wares littering the floor space below. Any available spot is stuffed with ingredients, potions and occult instruments of questionable origin, leaving only a narrow path in which to walk from the door to the counter.

“Morning!” Sally echoes. Jack holds the door open for her and she smiles to him in thanks, strolling inside the small, cluttered store. 

Jack follows Sally in and the heavy door swings closed behind them with a resounding thud, finally catching the Witch Sisters’ attention. The big witch splashes a red liquid into the concoction and the small witch gives it a final stir, bringing the violent bubbling down to a gentle simmer.

“Hello, Sally,” greets Zeldaborne, the short sister with dark green skin, black hair and a bulbous, warty nose, her voice low and nasal. She hops down from the cauldron and climbs up a stepping stool onto the counter.

“And Jack!” greets Helgamine, the tall sister with light green skin, white hair and a jutting, warty nose, voice high and shrill. She returns various bottles and jars to a cupboard, then turns to face her latest customers. “We don’t see you here often enough!”

“Are you here for your usual ingredients?” Zeldaborne inquires, standing atop a thick grimoire for added height.

“Yes,” Sally confirms with a nod. She reaches into her pocket for the usual payment and places it on the counter. “… And for something else.”

“Well, whatever you need you’ve come to the right place!” Helgamine assures, grabbing a clothed bundle from below the counter. “Witches’ Shop, the best bargain in town!”

“From gruesome goods to dubious devices, this shop truly has it all,” Zeldaborne finishes, hoping down from the old tome to carry Sally’s coins one by one to the register

“We’ve even got some prime heads and torsos, but they’ll cost you an arm and a leg!” Helgamine quips, putting the bundle down on the counter.

“So many terrible things to choose from,” Jack comments politely. He taps a skeletal finger against a jar of fleshy organs preserved in a yellow fluid. “How splendid!”

Sally unfolds the clothed bundle, revealing an assortment of packets and vials. She clutches her hands together in front of her. “ _Ooooo!_ ”

Jack looks over Sally’s shoulder, his skeleton grin growing impossibly wide at her girlish excitement. 

Zeldaborne nods with satisfaction, adding the final coin to the register. “We just received a fresh shipment of all your favourites.”

“Including poisons you can’t find anywhere else in town!” Helgamine adds proudly.

Sally carefully examines the contents, reading labels, shaking liquids and wafting powders: deadly nightshade, hen bane, witch hazel, fire salamander, spider flower, poison puffer, bleeding heart… 

“… _Mistletoe?_ ” Sally questions, lips scrunched in confusion.

The word stirs a memory in Jack. The sachet of dried leaves and berries Sally holds looks much different from the bright, green leaves and juicy, red berries he recalls however.

“Yes!” Helgamine affirms. “Our newest poison yet!”

“Poison?” Jack interjects, brow ridge knotted in bewilderment. He had examined mistletoe under microscope during his investigation of Christmas, but had never discovered it had such an insidious nature.

“Yes,” Zeldaborne elaborates, standing next to the bundle on the counter. “If any part of the parasite—leaves, stems, _berries especially_ —is orally ingested it will cause drowsiness, blurred vision, vomiting and even seizures in humans. Possibly death in other animals.”

Jack struggles to consolidate this new information with his memories of smiling elves kissing and making merry under the seemingly harmless plant.

“We thought you would be interested, so we added it to your bundle,” Helgamine explains. “Consider it a bonus for your continued patronage!”

“Thank you,” Sally says appreciatively, already brainstorming uses for the new addition to her deadly inventory. She begins to reassemble the bundle, returning its contents to their original order. “Where did you get it?”

“That one we grew ourselves,” Zeldaborne reveals. “We found some in the Town Square after Christmas and did some research.”

“We have more growing on potted trees upstairs if you’re interested in growing it yourself,” Helgamine offers.

“We’ll take it!” Jack immediately accepts, placing his hands on Sally’s shoulders and nodding eagerly.

Sally looks over her shoulder at Jack with mild surprise, but nods along. “Yes, we’ll take it.”

“Horrid!” Helgamine exclaims. She turns to her sister. “Zeldaborne, please assist them with whatever else it is they want while I go get it.” The big witch vanishes into a backroom, her loud footsteps resounding throughout the entire building as she thuds up a creaky flight of stairs.

“What else can I help you with?” Zeldaborne queries, the little witch propping herself back up onto the lofty volume.

“We’re interested in information we believe you and your sister may possess,” Jack explains as Sally finishes retying the clothed bundle.

She puts it in a leather satchel hanging across her body and against her hip. “Do you know anything about visions and premonitions? Magic that allows one to see the future?” she clarifies, fiddling nervously with her hands.

“Of course!” Zeldaborne confirms, nodding and swinging her legs over the side of the book. “Neither I nor my sister have a gift for it, but we’ve both dabbled in divination in the past. Is there anything more specific you would like to know?”

“Yes,” Sally responds. “I—I’ve seen things. Terrible things,” she admits. “But I seem to have no control over it.” She bites her lower lip.

“You would like to control what you see?” Zeldaborne interprets.

“Yes,” Sally nods firmly.

“There are many methods of telling the future. Perhaps a physical tool could ground and channel your abilities.” The little witch points to something behind Sally and Jack. “There’s a shelf of divination tools behind you to your left. Try seeing if any of them feel right to you.”

Sally nods again. Jack moves back towards the entryway to give Sally space and watches as she turns to a shelf of seemingly random knick-knacks. Her eyes scan over them, flitting from a bag of pebbles inscribed with runes, to a teacup decorated in esoteric symbols, to a seemingly mundane deck of cards. She reaches for the latter. 

“ _Oooo_ ,” Zeldaborne exclaims. “Tarot cards; a classic.”

Sally flips over the deck, revealing the face of the bottom card. Instead of a typical, international playing card she sees a detailed illustration of a woman with short, black hair wearing long, blue robes. Along her chest is a white cross and atop her head a horned diadem with a globe at its center. She sits in front of a tapestry embroidered with palm leaves and pomegranates between two columns: one white and marked ‘J,’ the other black and marked ‘B.’ She holds a scroll in her lap that reads ‘TORA’ and a lunar crescent rests at the foot of her robes. At the top of the card are the Roman numerals ‘II.’ At the bottom of the card reads ‘THE HIGH PRIESTESS.’ Sally rifles through the rest of the cards, finding an assortment of other characters and scenes featuring cups, wands, swords and pentacles.

“What do I do with these?” Sally asks, tucking a long lock of hair behind an ear.

“Whatever you like,” Zeldaborne answers. “Try asking a question, shuffling them and drawing a card.”

“What should I ask?” Sally ponders, bringing the deck with her back to the counter.

Jack walks up behind her. “Why not ask something you already know?” he suggests. “We can test how it compares!”

“Good idea, Jack,” Sally agrees, splitting the deck into two halves. “ _Hmmm_ … Who is _Jack_?” she asks, shuffling the cards on the counter. She cuts the deck a few times and draws the top card, flipping it over. A blond-haired youth walks unknowingly toward the edge of a cliff. He holds a white rose in one hand and a small blanketed-bundle on a stick in the other. A little, white dog follows close at his heels. The card is marked with a ‘0’ and titled ‘THE FOOL.’ Sally laughs. “Look, Jack! It’s you and Zero!” She holds the card over her shoulder to him with a blue hand.

Jack pinches it between two bony fingers. “Interesting,” he notes, scrutinizing the card. “But what does it _mean_?”

“What does _what_ mean?” inquires Helgamine from back behind the counter, a small bag of freshly harvested berries in hand.

“Sally has a gift for knowing the future,” Zeldaborne responds. “We were testing if it extends to the tarot.”

“ _Ooooo_ ; a classic!” Helgamine comments. She places the bag on the counter and reaches towards a shelf. “Generally, it's easiest to go with your gut reaction based on the cards’ imagery, but we have some books that explain their meanings if you’re interested.” She lays a book titled ‘The Arcana’ on the counter.

Sally flips through the book till she reaches a page titled ‘The Fool.’ “New beginnings, adventure, freedom, idealism, spontaneity, innocence, optimism,” she reads aloud. “I suppose that sounds like you, Jack,” Sally observes.

“Try another question,” he recommends, handing her back the fool card and resting a skeletal hand on her waist.

Sally splits the deck again. “Who… _created me_?” she asks. She shuffles the deck on the counter and cuts it a few times. This time she spontaneously decides to pull the bottom card instead. She draws it and flips it upright. “The King of Swords.” She checks the book. “Reason, authority, discipline, inte—”

“No, no, no,” Helgamine interrupts. “You drew it upside down, so its meaning is reversed.”

Sally checks the book again and sees a reversed meaning column. “Dictator, oppressive, inhumane, controlling, cold, ruthless, irrational, dishonest…” Sally frowns. “That _does_ sound like the Doctor… Or at least who he was to _me_.”

Jack lightly squeezes her waist. “Ask something happier,” he murmurs in her ear. “Ask about Halloween,” he suggests.

Sally sighs and splits the deck. “Will…” She remembers Jack’s plan; his faith in her; their lessons and dancing. “Will next Halloween be a success?” Sally shuffles, cuts and draws. “The Sun.”

“That’s a good one,” Zeldaborne notes.

“One of the best!” Helgamine agrees.

Sally checks the book. “Happiness, success, joy, optimism, confidence, truth.” Not a terrible omen, but a promise of good things to come. She smiles.

Jack hugs her waist from behind and rests his chin on her shoulder. “I knew it, Sal; it’ll be the best Halloween yet!”

“So, will you be purchasing those then?” Helgamine asks, gesturing at the cards on the counter.

“Yes,” Sally nods, returning the sun card to the deck.

“The book as well?” Zeldaborne checks.

She nods again.

“Let’s ring you up then!” Helgamine proposes. “One bag of fresh mistletoe berries, one deck and one book. Your usual payment should be enough to cover it.”

Sally reaches into her pocket and pulls out the same amount as before. She drops the coins on the counter and Zeldaborne hops down to add them to the register.

“Mistletoe is a parasite, so you must plant it on a strong tree rather than in earth,” Helgamine instructs. “Squeeze the seeds out of the berries while they’re fresh and stick them right onto a branch. As long as the tree is healthy the mistletoe will get all the nutrients and water it needs.”

“Fascinating!” Jack comments, reaching around Sally to snatch the bag from the counter and hold it up to his face, chin still propped on Sally’s shoulder. His orbital sockets squint as he closely examines the bright red berries. “Any tree will do?”

“Any tree,” Zeldaborne assures, body half in the register.

Jack detaches himself from Sally’s back. He pockets the berries and she adds the deck and book to her satchel.

“Thank you for your assistance, ladies!” Jack acknowledges gratefully. “You’ve been a great help!”

“Yes,” Sally agrees. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re a witch’s fondest dream, Jack!” Helgamine insists. “You are _always_ welcome here!”

Jack smiles politely and Sally holds back a laugh at the witch’s obvious infatuation.

“You, too,” Zeldaborne adds, standing on the edge of the counter. “You’re always welcome here, Sally.”

Sally beams at the little witch. “I’ll see you next week, Zelda.”

The witches return to their cauldron as Jack and Sally wave their good-byes and depart the delightfully macabre little store, making their way back home arm-in-arm through the Town Square.

“Those sisters are quite the saleswomen!” Jack admires. “We came in asking for information and walked out bags full and pockets empty!” He spots the Lady of the Lagoon perched on the edge of the Town Fountain. The scaly, green sea-creature waves a dripping, webbed hand. He waves a bony hand in reply.

Sally laughs. “ _My_ bags and _my_ pockets you mean.” She waves a blue hand as well and the Undersea Gal gives a last salute before diving back into the fountain. 

“ _Our_ pockets,” Jack corrects with a grin. “What’s mine is _yours_.”

Sally rolls her eyes, but feels moths flutter in her stomach. “Why _did_ you want those berries, Jack?”

“Why, because they’re from Christmas Town, Sally!” Jack explains enthusiastically. “People there hang them on doorways and other high places that they often walk under!”

Sally scrunches her lips. “Why would they do _that_?”

“It’s a Christmas tradition!” Jack clarifies. “When two people walk under mistletoe, they…”

Jack stops walking; still arm-in-arm, so does Sally. “They…?” she prompts him.

“ _Hmmm_ …” Jack scratches his skull. “Why don’t I just _show you_?!” he declares. He reaches into his pocket with his free hand and pulls out the small bag of berries. With one lanky, skeletal arm he holds it high above their heads.

Sally looks up at him with a quirked brow. 

Jack grins down at her and leans in close. 

Sally’s cheeks warm and her breathing hitches.

“They kiss,” Jack finishes, closing the gap… 

… licking a long, black tongue along the sutures of Sally’s cold, dead cheek.

Sally jerks out of his hold, clutching her now moist face. “ _Jack!_ ”

“ **EEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEEEE-HEEEEE-HE—!** ”

Sally tugs Jack down by his bow tie, planting a firm kiss with her blood red lips on his hard, ivory mouth before letting him go.

Jack startles, now clutching his own face.

Sally chuckles at his shocked expression and tugs his hand. “Let’s go, my dearest Jack. We have lots of cleaning yet to do.”

Jack lowers his fistful of berries and wordlessly nods, allowing Sally to lead him the rest of the way home. From behind, he admires her slow, staggering gait, tiny feet and long legs teetering from side to side as if walking on invisible stilts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you enjoyed please leave a kudos.


	4. First Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally upon us: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!
> 
> This Halloween, I'm quasi-dressing up (orange blouse and black skirt with striped leggings, spoopy earrings and a face mask), lighting my jack-o'-lantern (literally, I carved Jack's face in it), watching Halloween movies (bet you can guess what one of them will be) and handing out large fistfulls of factory-packaged candy to whatever tender lumplings wander their way upon my doorstep. How are you spending your Halloween? Please comment, I would love to know.
> 
> I couldn't not post something on Halloween, so I whipped out this quick drabble; a flash-back into how Sally and Jack came to live together. With NaNoWriMo starting tomorrow I will be too busy with my own personal writing next month to post full-length chapters for this fanfiction, but appropriately come Christmas season I will return to posting our regularly programmed "Screams." In the meantime, I will be posting "Memory" chapters about once a week.
> 
> Thank you to TheSecondBreakfast, Sylphidine_Gallimaufry and guests for your kudos. Very cool. 
> 
> Next Memory: Find out how Sally manages to fit through Jack's skeleton-sized door.

"— _We're simply meant to beeeee~!_ "

The charming ragdoll and gentlemanly skeleton lower their clasped hands, entwining their spidery limbs around one another's torsos as they lean in for a chaste kiss. The embrace lasts but a moment before they part; the two connect hands once more between them, bony appendages engulfing stitched, blue hands, and simply stare. Large, white eyes gaze up into dark, cavernous orbital sockets; into the void they stare and the void stares back. In the distance a ghostly canine flies off into the night sky, nose bright like a guiding star. Atop the snowy, icicled Spiral Hill, before a bright, full moon, the ghoulish couple remain fixated on one another, unaware.

"Come home with me." A hopeful, skeleton grin.

" _ Yes _ ." A delighted, blood red smile.

Alone, they walked up the hill; together, arm-in-arm, they walk down it, making their way home—for the first of many times to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you enjoyed please leave a kudos.


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